


As It Used To Be

by enlili



Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, How Do I Tag, Little bit of Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Scomiche, a little sad I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25711309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enlili/pseuds/enlili
Summary: “Mitch?”“Hey, have you seen the news? You know I won’t be able to return tonight?”“Yeah, I know. Just wanted to call you,” he seems a little sad or maybe Mitch is egoistic enough to think so or he just wants him to be. “So, you stay at Scott’s?”“Yeah. Don’t think I have much of a choice, have I?” Mitch smiles to the phone. He knows that his words sounded a little bit bitter, but he feels like he can do nothing about it.When Mitch has to stay at Scott's, things get even more complicated
Relationships: Mitch Grassi & Scott Hoying, Mitch Grassi/Scott Hoying
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	As It Used To Be

**Author's Note:**

> i felt like i have to write something angsty and i decided to share it with you.  
> also english is not my mother tongue so there might be mistakes  
> so if anyone is still in this fandom, hope you like it!  
> feedback is appreciated:)

Mitch numbly stares at the raindrops streaming down the windowpane. One after the other, weaving, passing, chasing one another. The sound of their pouring is the only one that he is able to hear in the living room. It has been a while since such a torrent. He turns his head to look through the glass patio door. From the floor, that he is currently sitting on, he is not able to see much. The only thing he can observe is the battering of the rain falling on the terrace. Tomorrow, there will be gigantic puddles. But he is not complaining. He has always loved rain, the smell of the earth after it. Pleasing aroma subtly filling nostrils.

He wraps himself up in a blue-white sweater he is wearing. He is warm, he is calm, and he is safe. It feels almost like home. Almost. 

He turns his sight from the pouring rain reluctantly, when he hears quiet steps, which are getting louder when the silhouette of the other man is getting nearer to him. The nice smell of coffee is present the living room now. He looks up at the high blonde boy holding two mugs in hands with yet steaming beverage. Ever so slowly, Scott lays them on the coffee table and sits next to him on the floor leaning against the sofa situated behind them. The blonde one is remaining the distance though he would prefer if it was not there, but nothing is as it used to be. Nothing is as he wants it to be. Never will be.

“Wasn’t that bad, methinks. We’re not a bit rusty then, I guess,” he speaks quietly, trying to start a conversation after a moment of an awkward silence that they wanted so badly to avoid. Mitch looks at his face, trying to read his emotions. Scott seems absent, anxious. His baby blue eyes have not got those sparks of joy that he used to stare at in the past. Mitch ponders if this is because of him, if this is his fault. He knows that Mitch knows that he lied. He knows Scott too well not to know that he was not telling the truth. He knows Mitch too well not to know that he did not believe him.

Mitch smiles sadly and lowers his eyes. Of course, it did not go as they wanted it to go. The livestream for thousands of people with a person you shared a platonic love, with your soulmate, your best friend with whom your relationship is now broken or at least complicated, since you are not living together anymore. Yeah, it simply cannot go well. A livestream is not a video that you put on YouTube. You cannot cut anything out and edit anything. You cannot hide fake smiles nor the curt, forced closeness. You cannot pretend that is like it used to be. You can only tell yourself that it is.

Mitch hesitantly reaches for the mug. The hot beverage is searing his palm. He stares at it, not knowing what he could tell. Scott is also silent. They are at the starting point right now. Mitch knows he should be going home already where his boyfriend is waiting for him. He does not live with Scott anymore; he does not belong here, and Scott’s boyfriend will be back from work soon. Can he stay a little longer? He does not want to be an intruder. He does not want to feel unwanted. Why cannot they talk like they did in the past? What has changed? Even the silence is burdensome. At least the rain does not want to be quiet. It speaks for both of them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he looks at Scott. His sight is absent when he looks at his drink. Mitch knows what he is thinking about. It seems as the only thing that changed is the lack of this constant joy in his eyes. He has a stubble, he has not shaven in several days like he used to. If Mitch could, he would tell him he looked even more beautiful, but he knows it would be inappropriate. The cap that he wore is now laying on the coffee table, so the next thing Mitch notices is that his silky hair is an absolute mess, like he likes best. If only Scott knew how much Mitch wants to run his fingers through it. Mitch is not brave enough to do it.

He averts his glance quickly when he sees Scott’s move.

“I’ll turn the tv on, do you mind?” he asks quietly, waiting for an answer.

“No, of course not,” Mitch tells him, saying something for the first time in ten minutes. His voice is shaky and trembling. He scolds himself for it.

They are sitting next to each other on the floor, staring at the screen, in which the pictures are changing quickly. He changes the channel. The news. The newsreader, with tiredness painted on her face and hatred for her job, tells information which tomorrow will not matter at all. Mitch thinks that he must be different from the rest of the society. He does not care about it today. No matter what is happening all over the world, he cannot change it. He cannot save the world when his own life is foundering. He does not know how to help; he can only destroy.

What pulls him out of his thoughts is the information about flooded roads. Before Mitch manages to say something, Scott turns the volume up, and Mitch decides that he is interested as well. They find out that the torrent has flooded the roads so severely that they became impassable. Photos showed on screens seem to confirm that. There is no way that any vehicle could transit. The traffic has been snarled up until they can blot the roads and since it is fairly late, they will be able to do it tomorrow at the earliest.

Does it mean that Mitch has no possibility to go home tonight? That he has to stay there?

Scott mutes the tv and they are sitting in silence once again. Mitch does not know what to do with himself. He should call his boyfriend, tell him about everything but he feels _so_ tired. The only thing he is capable of doing right now is staring at the screen. He is aware that the pictures are changing but the has no idea what they are about.

A light touch on his shoulder pulls him out of the amok. He turns his head.

“Did you hear what I said?” Mitch shakes his head slowly. Scott sighs and repeats.

“I told that I have to make a call, you should call him too.”

Mitch can only nod to that. The knows that Scott is right. He follows him with his sight when Scott leaves the room and then he grabs his phone with a slightly shaking hand. He dials the right number and waits, trying to ignore muffled sound coming from the kitchen.

He picks up after a while.

“Mitch?”

“Hey, have you seen the news? You know I won’t be able to return tonight?”

“Yeah, I know. Just wanted to call you,” he seems a little sad or maybe Mitch is egoistic enough to think so or he just wants him to be. “So, you stay at Scott’s?”

“Yeah. Don’t think I have much of a choice, have I?” Mitch smiles to the phone. He knows that his words sounded a little bit bitter, but he feels like he can do nothing about it.

“Are you okay?”

He runs his fingers through his hair. It is getting longer, and he should cut it again, but he was never good at changes. He always holds tightly to anything he has.

“Sure,” he answers quietly, knowing that the other man will not be able to tell if he lied.

“Alright, baby. See you tomorrow, right? Love you,” he whispers. 

“Yeah, see you,” Mitch says quickly and hangs up in the moment that Scott returns to the living room. Mitch puts his phone on the table, knowing that he will forget later where he has left it.

“Daniel will stay with Mason tonight,” he says. Mitch nods, acting like he cares at the slightest. “You talked with Ace?” Mitch nods again, forcing a small smile. “Buck up! You’ll be home tomorrow.”

“You know that this is not that it is about,” Mitch whispers through his teeth, trying not to cry in front of him, not to show how weak he really is.

“Then what is it about?” Scott asks indifferently, pretending he does not know. It is easier this way.

Mitch is silent for a long time. He just looks into the pair of pretty blue eyes. After a while he chooses the safer way.

“So… I stay till morning.”

“Mhm, anything you’d like to do?”

_Yes, talk honestly and explain all this bloody situation, save our relationship, our friendship, cause what we have now is slowly killing me and I can’t stand it, to tell you how much I care about you, and that I really don’t know where we have made a mistake or many mistakes, that I’d do anything to have you by my side again, but I’m a coward who is afraid to start this subject, cause I’d start to cry and kneel before you and beg you and ask you to forget everything about last year and come back to where we were, what we were, cause I really, really miss you and I fucking need you all the time, and though we see each other every day I feel that there was never more distance between us._

“No, have no idea.” A safer way again.

“Hm, okay. How about SpongeBob marathon?” Scott asks with hope in the eyes.

Mitch smiles candidly, for the first time this evening.

“You know very well that I could never say no to SpongeBob.” Scott smiles back. For the first time in a long time, Mitch can see again those sparkles of joy in his irises.

Scott reaches out his hand which Mitch hesitantly grabs. He helps him get up from the floor and points at the couch.

“Just sit comfortably. I’ll bring a blanket and make some popcorn, okay?” Mitch nods and sits on the right side of the sofa.

Scott hands him the blanket after a minute, only so he can disappear in the kitchen. It is big, soft and fluffy. Mitch covers himself with it and he realizes how worn-out he is. It was a rough day. Nothing tires you as much as pretending that everything is fine.

He jumps through the channels and settles on the cartoon, which used to be their favourite one. Then he sits more snugly and waits.

“Scott, it stars in a minute!” Mitch shouts through the wall.

“Just a second, Mitch!” Mitch misses the diminutive of his name that Scott used to call him. He does not anymore. “Popcorn is almost ready,” Scott says loudly so Mitch can hear him. “You want anything else?”

_Yes, you._

“No,” he answers instead with a little annoyance.

_Just come back here._

He gets in the room a minute later, holding a bowl full of the snack. He sends a gleeful smile aimed at Mitch, one of Mitch’s favourite because he knows it is honest.

“Don’t tell me you took all of the blanket. I’m gonna take offence.”

_No please, one is enough, I can’t endure more._

Mitch sighs and gives him a part of the blanket. Scott sits next to him, keeping that damn distance between them and covering himself with the fabric.

The cartoon, that has just begun, keeps them away from talking. Mitch unknowingly starts to hum the song, he always does it. Scott only looks at him and smiles. Mitch can feel himself blush. He scolds himself for it.

The rooms begin to fill with their laughter, muffling the sound of the rain. For a minute it seems as everything is alright, like it supposed to be, like nothing has changed. They do not argue, there is no awkward, overwhelming silence, there is no problem with finding adequate words. There is no wariness between them that can be felt. It is as it used to be. They sit not close enough, true, and there are no sweet words, and Mitch cannot tell that he is hundred percent relaxed, and he is scared to voice anything, feeling he could spoil the moment somehow, but it is as it used to be. Almost.

During the second episode, Mitch is starting to lose with the sleepiness. The picture of the yellow sponge is getting blurry, his head is getting heavy and is falling to the back of the sofa. His brown eyes are closing against his will. He does not want this evening to end. It is not perfect but is so much better than many of the previous ones, and he cannot help the feeling that they are a little more of friends that they were yesterday. His body ignores his pleas, though, and he gives up to the drowsiness.

He is close to falling asleep completely when he hears Scott turning the tv off and sighing softly. After a second Mitch feels as one of the hands slides under his knees and the other behind his back. He feels as Scott picks him up gently and kisses his head. Mitch wants to open his eyes but hears only, “It’s okay, Mitchy.” _Oh, my, it’s back, is that a good sign? How should I understand it?_ “I’ve got you.”

Mitch feels as Scott carry him upstairs, but he is not trying to open his eyes anymore. Scott lays him on the bed, still wrapped up in the blanket. Mitch feels warm, feels safe. Feels like he used to feel.

He knows that Scott is looking at him, he feels his eyes on him. Mitch wishes Scott stayed, lay next to him, held him in his arms, like he used to.

Before Scott leaves the room, Mitch hears but softly whispered words: “I’m sorry.”

***

Mitch wakes up suddenly. He does not know if it is because of a nightmare or the rain beating against the window. He looks at the clock, standing at the bedside table. 3:29. He looks around the room as he starts remembering the last evening. The memories gather in his tired mind. He tries to fall asleep again, but he cannot. Staying wrapped up in the soft blanket, he stands up and goes out of the room, trying to see anything in the omnipresent darkness.

He goes downstairs and into the living room. Scott is lying on the sofa. He is asleep, his breath regular. Mitch hesitates for a minute if he should wake him up. His plays every possible scenario of the situation, but final decision is not up to him after all. Scott wakes up without his help.

“Mitchy?” _Oh, yes, please, call me that._ “Something happened? Is everything alright?” Scott asks, concern pouring out of his words which makes Mitch’s heart swell. He sits up and focuses his sight on the other man.

“I… I… it just… I mean… it was just a bad dream, really…” Mitch scolds himself for the third time, this time for insecurity in his voice. “Could I… could I stay here… with you?” he asks finally, his voice still quiet and timider than he thought possible.

Scott smiles at him and holds out his hands in his direction, inviting him. Mitch notices that he does not have a blanket, so he shares for the second time. Mitch rests his cheek against Scott’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat that calms him down. Scott puts his arm around Mitch’s slender waist, pulling him closer a bit. He kisses the top of his head and rests his chin there, whispers to him that everything will be fine, and Mitch will do everything to believe in it. Mitch closes his eyes and smiles sleepily, because he has not felt this good and right as he feels in those arms for such a long time.

He wakes up again and he knows that Scott has already got up because he does not feel the warm of the body against his own. He still feels Scott’s smell on himself though. He sits up reluctantly and looks out the window. It has stopped raining. It is quiet. He can feel the nice aroma of the coffee, which he inhales deeply. He realises he is well-rested. He has not been this rested at length. He gets up and walks to the kitchen. He smiles at the sight of Scott leaning on the worktop, finishing his beverage.

“Hey, Mitchy. How did you sleep?” Scott looks at him with his sleepy eyes, his hair is tousled. Mitch can guess that he himself looks the same. Maybe that is why Scott smiles at him impishly.

“Not bad,” Mitch answers, not bending the truth. It is good to know that he can still be frank.

“I made you a coffee” he tells him, reaching him the mug. Mitch takes it with a quick ‘thank you’.

He drinks in silence well aware of the fact that the unwanted topic is closing in. Mitch puts down the mug and starts picking up his things and putting them back in his bag.

“Are you going already?” Scott seems a little disappointed.

“Yeah, Ace texted me that the roads have been reopened.” Mitch prays that Scott does not sense his lie. The favourite game of theirs lately. Guess when I lie. They both lose every time. “Besides, Daniel will be back at any time, I’m sure, and I don’t wish to interrupt,” Mitch adds bitterly as he cannot refrain himself. He screams at himself internally.

Scott lowers his sight. Mitch is filled with remorse as he thinks he said too much but still he does not say sorry.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Scott tells him sadly, clearly put out.

Mitch takes his bag, hangs it on his left shoulder and goes towards the door. He can hear Scott’s steps as he follows him.

Mitch turns around. Scott stops in front of him, taking a step closer. They look at each other. Mitch is scared to admit but the gets lost in these ocean blue eyes. He sees everything in them. They look at him with concern. Mitch does not want to lower his eyes, but he has no braveness to keep staring. Scott takes another step towards him and gingerly touches Mitch’s hand with his own. Mitch feels as if he cannot breathe. He does not.

“Mitch, my god, where have we made a mistake? What happened to us?” Scott whispers carefully.

“I wish I knew, Scotty,” he says honestly. “I miss you, miss us, miss everything,” Mitch feels as his voice begins to break and he himself is near crying.

Scott does not say anything else, just hugs him close, presses Mitch’s trembling body to his own and holds him in his arms. Mitch tries to hug himself closer, to crawl under Scott’s skin and never come back.

Scott pulls him away slowly but still keeps him in his arms. They lock eyes with each other. Scott seems to be near tears as well; Mitch can see it. They look like made out of glass, full of sadness and pain, exactly like Mitch’s. Scott bends slightly and touches Mitch’s lips with his own.

Mitch does not know what to do. He simultaneously feels everything and nothing at all. It is wrong. Scott has a boyfriend, so does Mich. But it is so good, so right. Mitch feels as he is every possible contradiction. He feels chaos and harmony. Through his head, run millions of thoughts but none of them is correct. He is an oasis of peace and hurricane of emotions.

Scott pulls away, taking his lips with himself. Mitch looks at him with wide eyes.

“Mitchy, I… I…” he stumbles, and Mitch is not surprised as he is in similar state. “I am sorry.”

Mitch looks into his eyes and knows that Scott feels exactly what he feels. But now they are equally lost.

“As am I,” Mitch says quietly. “I think it’ll be better if I just go,” he says hurriedly and with a silent cry on his lips leaves Scott’s house, leaving him standing in the middle of the living room.

For now, they are both even more helpless and confused.


End file.
